rain » vkook

fourteen

the morning is sunny and warm and I decide to visit Namjoon's coffee shop. the coffee-scented air is a welcome reprieve from the smell of paint, and I see Seokjin - the one who reminded me of the earth.

"Jeongguk!" Namjoon exclaims. "you're alive!"

a smile easily works its way to my face. Seokjin, standing next to Namjoon, gives me a small wave, which I return. per usual, the coffee shop is empty, so Namjoon and Seokjin both come around the counter and we all sit at a table.

"where have you been these past few months?" Namjoon demands. Seokjin stays quiet, and although he doesn't know me, he seems genuinely concerned. I get distracted by his earth tones for a brief second.

"I've just been busy with painting," I say. "and, well - never mind." I bite my tongue, but it's too late. they both lean forward, intrigued.

"what?" Namjoon demands. "tell me! you never do anything besides paint, so you have to tell us."

I sigh. "there was this boy."

their eyes widen and they both let out dramatic gasps.

"and?" Seokjin prompts, after I neglect to elaborate. my face feels strange and plastic, fracturing, like I'm going to cry. I can't cry.

"well, he's gone now, and I think it's my fault, so it's not really important," I mutter.

"wait, what?"

"never mind," I repeat, pushing my chair back a little.

"what do you mean, 'he's gone now'?"

"he's gone! that's it! I wish I knew more, but I don't. all I know is that it's my fault!" and then I'm standing up and leaving the coffee shop quickly, not quite running because I've already made a fool of myself.

back in the sun, my tears evaporate, and I walk aimlessly past people I don't know, past shops and cafes I've never been in before, until I'm at the park.

I go in, immediately attracted to the gazebo. maybe because it's sheltered by trees, drenched in shade. there's less people there, anyway. I see a smattering of pink and yellow wildflowers next to the gazebo and I find myself smiling as I near them. I think about that morning with Taehyung, where he talked like he was truly happy and I painted idly.

on an impulse, I crouch down to pick some flowers when I see it. lying on the grass is a handful of crushed wildflowers. I pick one up, and its petals scatter to the ground, and I notice with a jolt that blood decorates the petals, and I know.

Taehyung.

he didn't run away. something terrible happened.

I feel like I'm going to throw up; like everything that I've been working for since he left is being ripped away. I feel the exact same way I did when I woke up that morning and found him gone.

because maybe he is dead. maybe his ex boyfriend escaped jail and attacked him and killed him and ohgodifailedhimagain.

I can feel everything shattering; the sunlight itself seems to fracture, turning the world into a confusing, hostile, bright place and I need to get out now.

my hands are grasping for the blood stained flowers, and I'm running, trying to leave behind my imagination and Taehyung's accusing absence. my feet continue to move long after my brain finally shuts down.

it's a strange feeling, this numbness in my head. not once in my life has my mind been this quiet.

people stare at me as I fly past them, but I am not a person, I'm a disgrace, and I push them aside and they go scattering like dandelion fluff on the wind. I end up at the bookstore that Namjoon's coffee shop is in again, and push my way noisily through the silent books. when I enter the shop, Namjoon's eyes widen and he throws down the towel he's holding, rushing out to shoo out the staring customers, locking the door after they leave with their confusion and annoyance.

he grabs my shoulders, and that's what makes me realize how badly I'm shaking.

"what happened?" he demands.

"T-Taehyung," I stutter, unintelligible noises following. "something b-b-bad happened."

"let's sit down, okay? take deep breaths and then tell me what happened," Namjoon says, guiding us to the table I had been sitting at earlier.

I think my fingers are locked around the strangled stems of the wildflowers, and the dried blood keeps smearing across my vision, but I try to breathe anyway.

"Taehyung is the boy I told you about earlier," I begin shakily. I'm either whispering or shouting louder than thunder, but from the way Namjoon leans forward, I think I'm whispering. "I saved him once, but I guess I didn't save him when he needed me the most."

"why did you have to save him?"

"he was in an abusive relationship, and I somehow managed to save him, and then he came back to my apartment and looked like he was becoming so much happier, and he was so -" I gesture helplessly "- warm colors, but then he ran away the second night. except I found these at the park."

with a sob, I thrust the wildflowers away from me, toward Namjoon, as if hoping to alleviate the blame crushing my windpipe.

"you think these have something to do with him?"

"he rambled almost as much as me when he told me about how much he loved wildflowers, so yes, I think it has something to do with him!"

"wait," Namjoon says, pulling out his phone, "you said his name was Taehyung? and you found those at the park?"

"y-yes."

he shows me his phone, face a terrible mixture of regret and reluctance. on the screen is an article from the newspaper about someone named Kim Taehyung getting jumped in the park. I take Namjoon's phone, refusing to believe that it's my Taehyung until I see the picture of him in the middle of the article, sat in between blocks of text that describe his terrible injuries and his critical condition in the hospital; his picture, stuck there as if it could defuse the truth of the matter.

the article was written two weeks after the incident, and the incident happened nearly three months ago. if his injuries are as terrible as the article described, he might still be in the hospital. it's a long shot, and I hope that I'm right but I also hope that I'm wrong. because I might get to see him but he might not be the Taehyung I'm desperately remembering.

"Namjoon, we're going to the hospital right now."